42nd Verse The Tao gave birth to one. One gave birth to two. Two gave birth to three. And three begat the 10,000 things. The 10,000 things carry yin and embrace yang; they achieve harmony by combining these forces. People suffer at the thought of being without parents, without food, or without worth. Yet this is the very way that kings and lords once described themselves. For one gains by losing, and loses by gaining. What others taught, I teach. The violent do not die a natural death. That is my fundamental teaching.
Living by Melting into Harmony The beginning of this verse reiterates what Lao-tzu has been saying throughout the previous 41 sections of the Tao Te Ching—that is, the Tao is the hidden force that brings all of the creatures and substances that comprise the 10,000 things into being, as well as being the intangible that we think of as oneness or wholeness. All carry and embrace the opposites of yin and yang, or the feminine and masculine principles. This verse reinforces the idea that blending these seemingly opposing forces is the way to achieve harmony. Lao-tzu reminds you of the things that you probably think cause suffering and suggests that being orphaned, going hungry, or feeling worthless are high on the list. But then he says that achieving harmony in terms of the Tao involves gaining by losing. Does he mean that if you lose your home, your mom and dad, your belongings, or your sense of selfesteem, you’ll gain all that you need? What? How is that possible? Your infinite self that originated in, and is animated by, the Tao needs nothing to sustain itself. Parents, possessions, and self-worth are only necessary to the existence of your mortal self. Lao-tzu wants you to recognize this difference within the oneness that you are. He teaches that you gain awareness of your Tao nature through the loss of emphasis on the physical conditions of your life. In your oneness, you’re likely to lose the Tao sensibility in proportion to the emphasis you place on worldly desires. At the same time, Lao-tzu emphasizes that death of the mortal self is influenced by the way you live. You will die as you live is the fundamental teaching for the
mortal self. This is the balancing act that’s required to truly melt into harmony with the Tao. The last several lines of this verse insistently drew my attention when I was researching, writing, and meditating on this 42nd passage. I studied many translations of it, and I spent countless hours communing with Lao-tzu, gazing at his likeness in my writing space. I discovered that this particular verse was always interpreted with the same kind of dramatic emphasis. All said something similar to the following: “I take this to be the father of teachings”; “Know this to be the foundation of my teachings”; “This will be the essence of my teaching”; “Whoever says this is my beloved teacher”; and the one I used here, “That is my fundamental teaching.” My conclusion is that when you’re violent in any way—including in your thoughts, behavior, pronouncements, and allegiances—then you’re choosing to die in the same way. Of course, you’ll draw your own conclusions about the significance of this particularly dramatic instruction of the Tao Te Ching. The insistence with which this teaching presented itself to me leads me to believe that Lao-tzu wants me to emphasize that its opposite is also true. That is, a person who embraces the Tao and eschews violence and hatred will live and die naturally . . . which is in harmony with the perfection of the Tao. So I invite you to change the way you perceive what keeps you from harmonizing with your Source. The birthing agent of all is also your ultimate place of return when you leave your body in that moment called “death.” You must be willing to give up your attachment to all forms of violence in your life if you want to melt into harmony. Here are Lao-tzu’s suggestions, written through me, for embracing this fundamental teaching of the Tao Te Ching:
Remember that violence violates the harmony of life and death. Make a decision to live harmoniously with the Tao by removing all associations that you have with violence. Stop supporting entertainment that promotes any type of it, for instance. Monitor your vocabulary to remind yourself to remove words that direct hatred 42nd Verse or killing toward any living creature. Explore avenues for resolving disputes peacefully, and get involved with organizations that discourage violence. Remember that the one fundamental principle of the Tao Te Ching is that if you take up savagery in any way, then you’re signing up for a savage end on this planet. And this includes your mental activity as well as behavior, so seek kind and forgiving thoughts in place of revenge and hatred. Change the way you look at life to seeing a picture that’s free of violence and melts into harmony as you live and die. Examine your attachments with the idea that you gain by losing and lose by gaining. Your attachments to objects, status, your culture, and even other people prevent you from being free in the Great Way of the Tao. The more stuff that accumulates, the more you have to watch it, insure it, worry about it, protect it, polish it, distribute it, and identify with it. In other words, you lose harmony while seeking to gain. Practice giving your possessions away and loosening your need for who and what you have. Imagine strings attached to everyone and everything that you feel you own; then symbolically cut those strings and be an observer rather than an owner. This is how you melt into harmony with the Tao. The poet Hafiz advises: Start seeing everything as God But keep it a secret.
Do the Tao Now Think of one person who may have wronged you at some time in your life: someone who abandoned or mistreated you, someone who stole from or cheated you, someone who abused you or spread ugly rumors about you. Spend one day putting all thoughts of revenge aside, and instead feel forgiveness and love for that individual. Notice the difference in your body when you don’t have violent thoughts . . . this is the essential teaching of the Tao.
43rd Verse The softest of all things overrides the hardest of all things. That without substance enters where there is no space. Hence I know the value of nonaction. Teaching without words, performing without actions— few in the world can grasp it— that is the master’s way. Rare indeed are those who obtain the bounty of this world.
Living Softly The Tao Te Ching is full of parallels to nature, and in fact the pure essence of the teachings seems to be to help us become Tao-inspired sages through oneness with the environment. The opening lines of this 43rd verse remind me of the way of water, of its softness and ability to enter everywhere, even where there’s seemingly no space to do so. Water is used symbolically in many references to Taoism, such as in the title of the outstanding contemporary work by Alan Watts, Tao: The Watercourse Way. To live softly is to live the watercourse way. In this verse, Lao-tzu invites you to change the way you view hardness. To you, the concept is probably equated with strength. You may work out because the firmer your muscles, the tougher you think you are. Do you consider diamonds more valuable than a soft mineral, like volcanic ash, which crumbles in your hand? Perhaps you subscribe to the idea that doing a difficult task makes you a better person. Now imagine emulating water, this basic element that is the embodiment of nature (after all, it does comprise 75 percent of both the world’s surface and our physical makeup). Think about the way water courses, flowing to the lowest place, and how in order to experience it, you can’t just grab a handful. You must instead relax, lightly placing your fingers inside of it. Reflect upon how the gentle water compares to the solid stone and marble it’s capable of carving through. The soft water overrides hardness—deep valleys surrounded by mountains of granite have been carved away over the centuries by the patient, quiet, moving liquid. Imagine being able to enter where no space appears to be available, and to move slowly, speaking seldom and allowing yourself to be harmoniously intact as you seek a lower, less noisy
and noticeable place . . . a place where all others desire to come to you. This is the watercourse way. There’s value in the nonaction of being able to flow like water, naturally and effortlessly. I can’t help but think of this when I enter the ocean to swim for an hour or so. I want to go with the current rather than swim against it, so my first choice involves seeing which way the water is coursing. As I move through the sea, emulating its naturalness, I trust my instinct and swim without trying to direct my arms and legs in their strokes. I think of it as doing, but not interfering—that is, I’m allowing my body to propel itself through the water without my mind telling it how to move. As I’ve changed my thoughts about “hard” and “soft,” I don’t have to do anything but be in the water. I’ve chosen to make my daily swim a soft, silent experience that requires very little action on my part. And my swimming world has changed, becoming easy, joyful, and almost effortless. I’ve learned “the value of nonaction,” as Lao-tzu expresses it in this verse. It’s performing without action! Apply this way of seeing everything in your world: Tasks will be simplified, your performance level will increase, and the pressure to be better than others by using superior hardened strength will cease to be a factor. You’ll naturally incorporate the wisdom of peaceful harmony that’s found in the martial arts by letting the efforts of others become a source of your own power. Your softness will override the hardness of others. This principle is clearly seen when you look at great champions as they perform their chosen activities. The greatest golfers are effortless in their swing. The most successful ballplayers run, jump, throw, catch, and shoot with a softness that seems to stupefy most observers—they don’t use force, nor can they find words to describe how they do it. The most talented artists dance softly, without
effort; paint quietly, without force; and write easily, without struggle, by allowing the words to come to them. As Laotzu reminds you, 43rd Verse these are rare beings who live the master’s way. These sages “obtain the bounty of this world,” which is available to you, too. As I contemplate Lao-tzu’s counsel, he urges me to offer you encouragement to apply the spirit of the watercourse way that’s found in this 43rd verse of the Tao Te Ching: Introduce a soft, nonaction style to your life. Practice the way of nonaction, or performing without effort. By letting go of your inner drive to push ahead, you’ll see that you ironically do better than when you tried so hard. In your work, become more tolerant in your drive to achieve by softening your attitude and behavior. You’ll see that customers and larger opportunities are attracted to you. Why is this true? Because you’re allowing the perfect flow of the Tao, like the great gray heron lets the tide recede in order to reveal the nourishment he needs to live. Notice how your life changes as you change the way you look at it. Practice performing without effort in other areas of your life, too. For example, some marathon runners say that they’ve learned to relax and stop pushing, letting their legs, arms, and torso simply be as their bodies begin experiencing extreme exhaustion with only a few miles to go. They report that when they shut down the mental interference and instructions, they magically cross that finish line. Soft always has its place, for it is the watercourse way . . . the way of the Tao. Encourage desires to freely flow in your imagination. Consider what you’ve wanted to have in this life as if it’s behind a locked door. Examine what you’ve been telling yourself about the prosperity, superb health, good luck, business success, or wonderful relationships you’ve craved
—that no matter how hard you’ve tried, it’s all come to naught. Then imagine yourself flowing like water through the barrier of that locked room. Do it softly, gently, and silently in your mind. In other words, just spend some time getting used to practicing the watercourse way of the Tao. As you allow softness to be part of the picture of your life, the hard way will soften. Begin to exercise this kind of effortlessness in all areas of your desires. According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, “It is the condition of Inspiration— marry nature, don’t use her for pleasure.” I urge you to consider this kind of marriage. Do the Tao Now Have a day of silence. Don’t speak aloud to anyone; instead, just observe and see if you can be in a state of softness without telling yourself or anyone else what to do. Gently consider the powerful words of Herman Melville, who once said that God’s one and only voice is silence.
44th Verse Which means more to you, you or your renown? Which brings more to you, you or what you own? I say what you gain is more trouble that what you lose. Love is the fruit of sacrifice. Wealth is the fruit of generosity. A contented man is never disappointed. He who knows when to stop is preserved from peril, only thus can you endure long.
Living by Knowing When to Stop The 44th verse tells you that changing the way you prioritize your life ensures a fruitful one. I call it the “Enough is enough” section of the Tao Te Ching. When you update your view of the most important things in your life, the world around you is going to seem very different. Laotzu is urging you to look into your heart and examine what is truly important. Earlier verses of the Tao Te Ching counsel that the essential mission of your life is to go back to (or get to know) your originating Source before physical death. In other words, you don’t have to die to make the return trip! It’s not only possible, but essential, to feel your connection to the Tao while you’re still alive. Knowing when to stop is part of the path leading you to your essential self, where the need for fame and possessions is nonexistent. You see, it’s not the things or even a desire for recognition that keeps you from a living connection to the Tao—it’s your attachment to them that gets in the way. So shift the importance you’ve placed on success or belongings, which has obscured your connectedness to the Tao. Begin to note the senselessness of demanding more, exhausting yourself in pursuit of what keeps you trapped in a vicious cycle of “striving and never arriving” or trying to find fulfillment. This verse implores you to know when to stop. I’m sure that you can easily see people in your environment who spend their entire lives seeking more of everything—more possessions, money, recognition, awards, friends, places to go, substances, food—you name it. If you live with this same philosophy, you’ve signed up for a life of
frustration and dissatisfaction because the search itself becomes your jailer. It’s easy to see then why Lao-tzu advises that what you gain is far more trouble than what you lose! When you prioritize your life, you’ll find that love and a feeling of abundance are not only what you desire, but these two principles are instantly available because you’ve changed the way you look at the world. From this new perspective, you’ll feel totally loved and wealthy in all ways. I realize that Lao-tzu is again speaking in what seem to be paradoxical words. But he’s coming to you from the perspective of having changed the way he looked at things, and noting that what he looked at changed. He now sees love and wealth everywhere—yet he knows intuitively that he can never possess them by chasing after them, since they’ll always remain just outside of his grasp. And so he looks at the Tao and sees that the Great Way keeps nothing for itself, is willing to let go of its life-giving essence, and is desirous to share with all. When you give of yourself, asking nothing in return and withdrawing your need for recognition, you’ll experience more contentment. The fruits of wealth and love are seen right there before you when you simply stop the chase. The beauty of the wisdom in this 44th verse is that you give away your attachment to things or ways of being, which is what I mean by knowing when to stop. If the chase is wearing out your health, stop! If the chase is wreaking havoc on your relationships, stop! If the chase is exhausting you, stop! If the chase is keeping you from enjoying your life, stop! When you know when to cease and desist, you’re protected from all of those perils, and you’ll enjoy a long and contented existence connecting with the Tao. The following is what Lao-tzu asks me to offer you as a means for implementing this teaching:
Make your relationship to the Tao your top priority. Prioritize your life by making this the essential and foremost responsibility you have. Your primary relationship needs to be with yourself, not your family, business, country, culture, or ethnicity. Affirm: The number one priority in my life is my relationship with my Source of being. Go there first, before any other considerations, and you’ll automatically discontinue demanding more of anything else. You’ll begin to emulate the Tao effortlessly, living heaven on earth. Practice knowing when to stop. Alert yourself to recognizing when it’s a good time to stop demanding, chasing, talking, walking, working, sleeping, playing, shopping, complaining, striving, and so on. By practicing cessation, you’ll move into prioritizing what’s important in your life in that moment. Is your business doing well? Let it stop growing. Is your stomach full? Quit eating right now. Do you have enough money saved? Give some of it away, without taking deductions or asking for credit for your generosity. The more you’re attached to needing and wanting and possessing, the more you lose in your relationship to the Tao. But when you know the time to stop, you say good-bye to the troubles that accrue for those who sacrifice arriving for a lifetime of striving. Do the Tao Now Pick an area of your life to practice releasing an attachment by deciding when to stop. For example, plan to leave ten minutes before you think you’re done in the grocery store, or refrain from buying anything that’s not on your list. At work, restrain yourself from getting another cup of coffee or writing one more personal e-mail. In a relationship, don’t say anything else in a discussion that’s going nowhere. Those are all examples of attachment to being or doing.
You can also practice detaching by giving something away. Just recently, for instance, my son surprised both of us by doing just that. I was admiring a new T-shirt he’d just purchased, and he said, “Here, Dad, you like this one so much that even though it’s my favorite, I want you to have it.” It was a simple, spontaneous letting go of an attachment, and both of us felt the wealth that is the fruit of generosity.
45th Verse The greatest perfection seems imperfect, and yet its use is inexhaustible. The greatest fullness seems empty, and yet its use is endless. Great straightness seems twisted. Great intelligence seems stupid. Great eloquence seems awkward. Great truth seems false. Great discussion seems silent. Activity conquers cold; inactivity conquers heat. Stillness and tranquility set things in order in the universe.
Living Beyond Superficialities This verse subtly asks you to view the world with new eyes. Most likely you’ve been conditioned to evaluate just about everything with a cursory and fleeting glance. Here, however, Lao-tzu is asking you to stop seeing through your ego-dominated culture, and to instead begin noticing the still and tranquil invisible space within everything. When you go beyond superficialities, you become aware that what used to look imperfect, empty, awkward, or even stupid now appears perfect, full, eloquent, and intelligent. Your previous way of thinking about the world told you that it’s full of imperfections—the people in your life should be different, politicians should be aligned with your values, the weather should be more consistent and reliable, the multitudes should be more peaceful, young people should study harder, and older people should be more tolerant. The assessments are relentlessly endless, and they’re all based on teachings that you’ve adopted. While they may seem sensible and correct, these views are simply the result of only looking at what exists on the surface. “Hold on a minute,” this verse of the Tao Te Ching seems to say, “try looking at it this way. What seems to be imperfect has perfection, and what seems empty and false has a profound spiritual truth supporting it.” The paradox here is evident: Hunger does exist in the world as an element of the perfection of the Tao, and the desire to help those who are starving is also part of that perfection. You’re being asked not to label what you see as imperfect, stupid, or empty; rather, look for the stillness and tranquility within you that you can bring to these superficial appearances. When you refrain from engaging
in judgments based solely on looks, you paradoxically become an instrument for change. Study the opening lines of this verse. What seems imperfect is nevertheless inexhaustible; what seems empty is endless. Imagine a pitcher out of which you could pour delicious iced tea without ever needing to refill. “Impossible!” you say, yet that’s precisely what the Tao does. It never, ever runs out. It never has, and it never will. It cannot be exhausted. You are asked to be like this inexhaustible, always-full Tao—be nonjudgmental, still, and above all, tranquil. Let the world and all of its creations unfold while you remain constant with the invisibleness that allows it all to take place. Allow whatever you feel deep within you in that quiet and peaceful space to guide you in the direction that is your true destiny. Recently I attended a talk by my friend, colleague, and mentor Ram Dass, who had a stroke in 1997 that impacted his speech. As of this writing, he still spends almost all of his waking moments in a wheelchair, and his lecture lasted approximately 45 minutes. He received a standing ovation at the end, and I personally felt so blessed and blissful by having been in the audience. There are some who might have only seen superficialities—to them, the lecture might have seemed halting and slow because of the stroke, and judged as embarrassing or even intellectually challenging. Much of my dear friend’s time onstage was silent, and it certainly appeared to be awkward in comparison to his earlier speeches, which were always masterful and eloquent. But as I sit here writing, I can only say that because I changed the way I looked at this experience, the entire thing changed for me in a very dramatic way. While Ram Dass’s words were few, his message was straightforward, laconic, and direct. What might have appeared as unintelligible to others struck me as brilliance masked by circumstance. What could have been viewed as
fumbling was articulate and perfect in every way. I heard a great presentation to a loving, receptive crowd that was done largely between long periods of luscious silence. Throughout this lecture, all of the audience members and I 45th Verse remained still and tranquil. As Lao-tzu concludes in this 45th verse of the Tao Te Ching, it “set things in order in [our] universe.” I can feel the presence of Lao-tzu here this morning as I gaze at the drawing of that beautiful old man sitting on an ox. He seems to be urging me on to tell you how to apply this great wisdom, which comes from living beyond shallowness: See imperfections as perfect, even if your ego-mind cannot comprehend this. Become aware of your conditioned responses that lead you to label people, places, and circumstances as less than perfect. See the flawlessness behind the supposed defects. As I watched my children grow up, for instance, there were many times when their challenging behavior at a certain age was really a kind of brilliance. For example, I observed them refusing to eat certain nutritious foods, knowing that they needed to go through these phases in order to reach higher places. An adamant refusal to eat vegetables isn’t stupid or twisted thinking—it was perfect and necessary for them at the time. You can apply this same kind of patient stillness to your world. Inch by inch, we evolve as a people toward a fuller union with the Tao. One of history’s great mystical thinkers, Meister Eckhart, poetically put it this way several centuries ago: Every object, every creature, every man, woman and child has a soul and it is the destiny of all, to see as God sees, to know as God knows,
to feel as God feels, to Be as God Is. Give yourself permission to be perfect, even with all of your seeming imperfections. Recognize yourself first and foremost as a creation of God, which is your perfection. It has nothing to do with how you look or any so-called mistakes or failures you may have attracted to yourself, even though these superficialities will continue throughout your entire lifetime in this body. The Source of your material self, the eternal Tao, is flawless, straight, full, and an expression of truth. When those ways that you’ve been taught are imperfect appear and you notice the pain you’re causing yourself by disliking or judging them, call in your Tao-perfect self to tend to the socalled faults. When you surround it with love, the superficial appearance and feeling of being unloved will become tranquil. The 13th-century mystical poet Rumi sums this up perfectly in this short observation: You are the truth from foot to brow. Now, what else would you like to know? Do the Tao Now Make a list of ten things you’ve labeled as imperfect, twisted, or stupid. Then take one at a time and elicit the feeling in your body that’s attached to that item. Allow the sensation to be observed and to be held in your thoughts from a perspective of loving permission. Do this for as long as you’re comfortable, allowing the “Tao now!” to be present. Remember as you do this exercise that the Tao is nonjudgmental and provides equally to all. You can take the
sunshine and bask in it, or you can burn yourself to a crisp. The Tao just is, and it doesn’t care!
46th Verse When the world has the Way, running horses are retired to till the fields. When the world lacks the Way, warhorses are bred in the countryside. There is no greater loss than losing the Tao, no greater curse than covetousness, no greater tragedy than discontentment; the worst of faults is wanting more—always. Contentment alone is enough. Indeed, the bliss of eternity can be found in your contentment.
Living Peacefully If you’re presently evaluating your level of achievement based on how much you’ve accumulated, prepare to sense a major shift in your state of personal satisfaction and contentment. Verse 46 of the Tao Te Ching invites you to discover a more peaceful and self-satisfying way of knowing success—and as your determination to acquire more begins to weaken, your new views will change the world you’ve known. You’ll find that the experience of inner peace becomes your true gauge of accomplishment. This 46th verse begins with a look at what happens when a planet loses its connection to the Way. Countries begin needing to conquer more territory . . . and in their quest for more land, power, and control over others, they must constantly prepare for war. Lao-tzu speaks symbolically of horses here: When connected to the Tao, the animals fertilize the fields; when disconnected from it, the beautiful creatures are bred for war. In a modern translation of the Tao Te Ching, my friend Stephen Mitchell interprets this message in present-day terms: When a country is in harmony with the Tao, the factories make trucks and tractors. When a country goes counter to the Tao, warheads are stockpiled outside the cities. It’s painfully obvious that our world has largely lost contact with the Way as described by Lao-tzu. These days so much of our energy is placed on breeding warhorses at the expense of using our resources to fertilize our fields so that we can live in peace. The United States is chock-full of weapons of mass destruction, and we continually legislate more funding to make our weapons so menacing that
they’re capable of rendering our entire planet uninhabitable. The “disease of more” has created an environment that personifies Lao-tzu’s observation that there is “no greater tragedy than discontentment.” But even if so many of our Divine selves seem to be engulfed by the flames of unease, you can begin the process of putting Lao-tzu’s advice to work. When you truly understand what it means to live peacefully, satisfaction will begin to replace your desire for more. Your world will begin to become tranquil as you change your own life and then touch the lives of your immediate family, your neighbors, your coworkers, and ultimately your nation and the entire planet. Begin by simply thinking of the opening line of the famous Prayer of Saint Francis when you notice that you’re demanding more of anything. Silently say, Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love. As that instrument of peace, you’ll radiate tranquility to those in your immediate surroundings, and you’ll feel the flicker of a new and different success in contentment, perhaps for the first time in your life. By refusing to lose the Tao, regardless of how lost others are and what our world’s governments elect to do, you’re living harmoniously. Your connection to the Tao will make a difference, gradually inching Earth away from the precipice of discontentment that Lao-tzu called “no greater tragedy.” The sublime Hafiz beautifully sums up the kind of success I’m referring to in his poem “Would You Think it Odd?”: Would you think it odd if Hafiz said, “I am in love with every church And mosque And temple
And any kind of shrine Because I know it is there That people say the different names Of the One God.” Getting back to Lao-tzu, here are his messages from the powerful 46th verse that are applicable today in your personal life: Practice gratitude and contentment every day. When your feet hit the floor every single morning, without exception, say, “Thank You for an opportunity to live in a state of contentment.” Invite the magical energy of the Tao to freely flow through you and inform your responses throughout the day. You’re in harmony with your Source when you’re soliciting gratitude and gratification in these ways. Be one with your nature. In a world that seems to produce more and more violence, become a person who chooses to be an instrument of peace. Let your nature be the “horses” that are bred to till the fields, feed the hungry, and offer comfort to the lame or less fortunate. Live as if you and the Tao are one, which of course you are when you’re in your natural state. When enough of us are able to do this, we’ll reach a critical mass, and eventually the Great Way will surpass the demands of the ego. I truly believe, to use a baseball analogy, that nature always “bats last.” Do the Tao Now Set aside time to make a conscious effort to send peaceful energy to someone or some group whom you think of as the enemy. Include a competitor; an alienated family member; a person of a different religious persuasion; or those you oppose in a government, political party, or disagreement.
Then literally send something to them if that feels okay to you, such as a flower, a book, or a letter. Begin your conscious effort today, right now, to surrender to the Tao and know authentic success, which has no separation.
47th Verse Without going out the door, know the world. Without looking out the window, you may see the ways of heaven. The farther one goes, the less one knows. Therefore the sage does not venture forth and yet knows, does not look and yet names, does not strive and yet attains completion.
Living by Being I encourage you to change your belief that effort and striving are necessary tools for success. In verse 47, Laotzu suggests that these are ways of being that keep you from experiencing the harmony and attaining the completion that’s offered by the Tao. Living by being instead of trying is a different viewpoint; as Lao-tzu states, you can see and accomplish more by not looking out the window. How is this possible? Let’s look at an example to clarify this conundrum. I’d like you to place all of your attention on one of God’s greatest creations. I’m referring to your heart, that always-beating, mysterious chunk of arteries, vessels, muscle, and blood that you carry with you wherever you go. It continually maintains its thump, thump, thump without your trying to make it beat, even while you sleep. You don’t make it thump away—even without your conscious attention, it works as perfectly as the ocean does. Its continuous beat is even reminiscent of waves on the sea’s surface. Your heart is indeed a thing of wonder as it delivers life itself; it is essentially you. That organ in your chest is a model for understanding and applying the lesson of living by being. Your heart attains completion (your life) by not venturing forth, looking beyond its chest cavity, or striving. As you sit here reading these words right now, it’s keeping you alive just by being, and you don’t even feel it. I’d like you to think of your entire self as a heart that already knows exactly what to do by virtue of its very nature. That is, you don’t have to go anywhere to know the world because you already are the world. The moment you attempt to control the beating of your own heart, you realize the futility of such an effort. No amount of trying or
striving will make any difference, for your heart operates by its natural connection to the Tao, which does nothing but leaves nothing undone. Michael LaTorra points this out in his commentary on this verse in A Warrior Blends with Life: As the wisest of sages have always realized, the root of essential being is in the heart, especially in the heart-beat mechanism. From here, the radiance of essential being spirals upward to illuminate the head. This mechanism lies beyond any technology. You already inhabit it. . . . And through deep feelings (rather than superficial emotions) you can connect with it immediately. . . . The ultimate act that enlightens involves no action at all. So now you know that the paradoxical state Lao-tzu describes in this verse is not only possible, but it’s actually taking place everywhere right now, in billions of human hearts. The further reality is that this is true for the hearts of all creatures, as well as the life system of every tree, flower, bush, and even mineral on Earth. And this is only one planet in a universe that contains so many heavenly bodies that counting them is so far beyond our ability that we can’t even devise calculators to undertake such a task. The 21st century is often called “the information age”: We live in a time when there’s more data available on tiny computer chips than ever before in human history. We can also easily see that our efforts do indeed bring us more facts and the like. In fact, you may be one of the computer wizards whose greater efforts have made all of this possible. What’s at issue here is the relationship of information to knowledge and wisdom. Let’s take apart the very name of this era—information— to explain what I mean. When you stay “in-form” (in your body and the material world), you’re rewarded with
information. But move beyond form (transform to spirit) and you’ll receive inspiration. Thus, information is not always knowledge, and knowledge is not always wisdom. Wisdom connects you to your heart in your waking moments; it is the Tao at work. Lao-tzu is asking you to recognize the difference 47th Verse between striving for more facts and being in the world that is complete as it is. As you live from this perspective of wisdom or connection to the Tao, the world looks so very different. You are a single beat in the one heart that is humanity. You don’t have to look outside your window or venture forth—all you have to do is just be in the same way that you allow your heart to be. This concept was difficult 2,500 years ago, and I realize that it may still be challenging to grasp, but you must! In a world mad for information without the grace of being the Tao, you are one of the heartbeats that keeps the Tao wisdom flowing freely . . . just by being. Through me, Lao-tzu urges you to work at this new awareness and try out these suggestions: Begin the process of trusting your heart. Listening to your heartbeat, you can clearly recognize the Tao practicing the paradox of doing nothing and at the same time leaving nothing undone. Your deepest feelings are reflections of your “heart space” talking to you. You don’t have to do anything to activate this internal profundity; simply let your heart speak to you. Begin noticing and appreciating its continual silent thumping— and whatever provides the energy for the beat to go on, let its presence in your chest be a constant reminder of the Tao at work. Trust in your “sense of knowing,” which is always with you.
An internal knowing is there independent of your venturing forth—it’s there even when your eyes are closed and you’re sitting still. This doesn’t necessarily mean you should become a couch potato. Rather, you must allow yourself to be guided by the same Source that twirls the planets around the sun, and trust that it will direct you perfectly without your having to interfere. Experience your innate creativity while being an observer, watching in amazement as everything falls perfectly into place. Just as moving water never stagnates, you will be moved by a natural force that seeks being complete within you and without your needing to step in. You can get in touch with this knowing through the practice of meditation. Do the Tao Now Find or make a picture of a heart, and spend time today contemplating it as a reminder of the Tao effortlessly at work within your chest cavity. At some point during the day, allow yourself to be guided by the Tao to do something creative that comes from within, such as painting, writing a poem, taking a walk in the park, beginning a personal project, or anything at all. Just let yourself be guided without having to venture forth in any way. Then bring this magic of the Tao more frequently into all aspects of your life.
48th Verse Learning consists of daily accumulating. The practice of the Tao consists of daily diminishing; decreasing and decreasing, until doing nothing. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone. True mastery can be gained by letting things go their own way. It cannot be gained by interfering.
Living by Decreasing We live in a society that seems to say, “The more you amass, the more value you possess as a human being.” Here, in the 48th verse of the Tao Te Ching, you’re asked to change the way you look at this notion. Rather than validating yourself by acquiring more, you can reverse this embedded idea of increasing as the criteria for mastering life. The benefit of living by decreasing is seeing your world in a different light—one in which, believe it or not, you’ll experience a greater sense of completeness. Throughout the years of your formal schooling, you were encouraged to accumulate more of everything being made available to you: more mathematical formulas; rules of grammar; knowledge of ancient and modern history; information about the human body, the inner and outer galaxies, religion, chemical compounds, and so forth—on and on. You amassed a series of transcripts, diplomas, and degrees that summarized your voyage of collecting, gathering, and hoarding evidence of your learning. Lao-tzu suggests reexamining this legacy, for then you can base your level of success on something that appears to be the exact opposite of what you’ve pursued so far. The Tao asks you to release the external indicators and symbols of your educational status. While learning is about accumulating information and knowledge, the Tao is about wisdom, which involves letting go of information and knowledge and living in harmony with your Source. In order to enliven your experience of the Tao and live by its principles, you’re being asked to practice decreasing your reliance upon things. As I’ve already mentioned in these pages, everything that you add to your life brings with it an element of imprisonment: Your stuff requires you to insure it and
protect it from potential thieves or natural disasters; furthermore, you need to polish, paint, clean, store, and pack it, as well as move it from place to place. There’s infinite wisdom in the ideas that Lao-tzu outlines in this verse of the Tao Te Ching, especially in his view that true mastery can only be gained by freeing yourself of attachments to things and, in fact, downsizing what you already have. When you seriously think about this idea and change the way you look at accumulation, you’ll realize that you can never truly own anything. Native Americans once had no term for owning land; today, the modern individual’s purchase of a piece of property involves an endless cascade of legal maneuvers including title searches, liens, attorney fees, mortgages, tax stamps, and so on. We’ve created gargantuan hurdles for the purchase and ownership of a piece of land that we only really occupy temporarily. Laotzu urges you to think of yourself as a guest here, rather than a proprietor. Cease interfering with the natural world by doing as much as you can to decrease your impact on the environment. That is, live in harmony with the no-thingness state from which you emerged and to which you are destined to ultimately return. Lao-tzu says that you must think about your lifetime, your “parentheses in eternity,” as an opportunity to be in harmony with the always-decreasing Tao by putting into practice these suggestions: See the value in subtraction, or “daily diminishing.” Begin to consciously decrease your need to purchase more things. Keep in mind that the advertising world is designed to convince you that your happiness is tied to whatever it’s promoting—so instead of buying more, see how many of your accumulated possessions you can recirculate. I guarantee that you’ll notice a refreshing
feeling of freedom as your desire diminishes and you let go of your obsession with the material objects you’ve amassed. As Lao-tzu might say, you came here with no-thing and you leave with no-thing, so take great pleasure in all that has arrived in your life. There’s even greater pleasure to be had in knowing that your ability to live peacefully and happily isn’t dependent on how much stuff you add to your life. Living by decreasing is the way of the Tao. Practice seeing joy in the natural world, rather than seeking fulfillment in ownership. See the folly of ownership in a universe that’s eternally composing and decomposing . . . just like you are. In essence, Lao-tzu is saying that what’s real never changes because it has no form. So the more you can let things unfold naturally, the more harmoniously you’re living the Tao. Enjoy the flowers, clouds, sunsets, storms, stars, mountains, and all the people you encounter. Be with the world, in it and adoring it, but not needing to possess it. This is the way of peace. This is the way of the Tao. For more than 500 years, Kabir has been one of India’s revered poets. One of his most popular observations sums up this 48th verse of the Tao Te Ching: The fish in the water that is thirsty needs serious professional counseling. Do the Tao Now Right this minute, let go of five items that you have in your possession, putting them in circulation so that others might find them. Next, pick something that has some particular value to you and give it away. It’s important that it be something you really like, for the more attachment you have to an item, the greater the joy you’ll feel as you let it go. This can become a practice of living a life of daily diminishing.
49th Verse The sage has no fixed mind; he is aware of the needs of others. Those who are good he treats with goodness. Those who are bad he also treats with goodness because the nature of his being is good. He is kind to the kind. He is also kind to the unkind because the nature of his being is kindness. He is faithful to the faithful; he is also faithful to the unfaithful. The sage lives in harmony with all below heaven. He sees everything as his own self; he loves everyone as his own child. All people are drawn to him. He behaves like a little child.
Living Beyond Judgment In this gently powerful verse, we’re encouraged to change the way we view virtually everyone on the planet. Lao-tzu saw the potential for existing harmoniously through living beyond judgment; thus, this 49th verse of the Tao Te Ching invites us to explore that peaceful world. It’s encouraging us to replace our idea of criticizing them with an acknowledgment of us without criticism. Imagine the possibilities for all of humanity if we simply eliminated prejudice and could live “in harmony with all below heaven.” You can begin changing your view of judgment as a valuable or important activity by being aware of when you’re doing it to yourself. Then simply start substituting noticing for judging; from this perspective, you’ll realize pretty quickly that you prefer to observe what you’re doing or feeling rather than critiquing yourself. Calling your behavior “bad” or “good” just pits you against yourself and others by using competition, punishment, or dislike as your motivational markers—hatred, anger, and threats become necessary because love, acceptance, and kindness can’t be trusted. As you move away from judging yourself, you’ll no longer need or want what Lao-tzu calls the “fixed mind”; thus, allegiances that pitted you against the people you thought of as them will begin to dissolve. The innumerable categories that helped you organize your labels become totally superfluous and unimportant when you change the way you look at their so-called value. In spite of having been conditioned by the country you were born in, the religion you were assigned at birth, the culture you were
immersed in, or even the family who raised you, living beyond judgment becomes your preference. You exist in harmony with the Tao that excludes no one and has no conception of divisions and loyalties. The oneness of the Tao entices you away from any belief that others are separate. This is the basic solution to wars and conflicts. You see, when you stop judging and instead begin to see yourself in others, you can’t help but love the uniqueness of everyone as though they were your own children. Then instead of exclusions and allegiances, the oneness of the Tao graces all, unimpeded. Rather than God bless America (or whatever country you happen to reside in), Allah save our people, or Krishna bless those who believe in you, there’s God bless humanity—let me do all that I can to treat everyone, without exception, with goodness and kindness, as all of those whom we revere as spiritual masters taught us by their example. As your worldview changes, you’ll extend goodness to everyone you encounter. You’ll find that you can feel nonjudgmental compassion for the mistreated, even when their way of seeing things causes you and yours pain. You can send out kindness not only in response to kindness, but especially when you’re the recipient of cruelty. Why? Because, as Lao-tzu reminds you in this poignant verse, “the nature of [your] being is kindness.” It’s impossible to give to others what you are not, and you are not judgmental. You see yourself in everyone, without the need to criticize them or yourself. Change your thoughts and live beyond judgment—and don’t see yourself as “bad” when you falter in this view or as “holy” when you succeed. Keep in mind that you’re a mix of infinite openness and finite limitation, as we all are. So sometimes you just need to notice yourself judging, without then judging yourself!
This is what I feel called by Lao-tzu to offer you from this 49th verse of the Tao Te Ching: Change the way you look at yourself. If you pride yourself on having a fixed mind, realize that it relies on conditioning that generally shows up as prejudice. Instead, see yourself as flexible, since being open is the higher virtue. Pride yourself on extending your goodness and kindness to all sides, even 49th Verse when they oppose your preprogrammed learning. Begin to see yourself as a person who notices instead of judges. Avoid taking one position and sticking to it no matter what the circumstances are; rather, be in harmony with all people, especially those whose opinions conflict with yours! And remember to include yourself when dispensing kindness and nonjudgment. Change the way you look at other people. One version of this verse says: “I trust men of their word, and I trust liars. If I am true enough, I feel the heartbeats of others above my own.” Whether you call it “judging” or “labeling,” notice when you think of others as evil, lazy, dishonest, stupid, or ugly. Then affirm: I see myself in this person, and I choose to be in a space of goodness rather than judgment. There’s a Sanskrit word, Namaste, that can help you with this. When used as a greeting, it roughly translates to: “I honor the place in you where we are all one.” So silently or verbally begin telling others “Namaste” in order to remind yourself to love everyone as your own children. Do the Tao Now Vow to spend a day looking for opportunities to practice kindness in circumstances that usually provoke judgment. Notice what you think or say about a panhandler, a relative whom you feel animosity toward, or even a politician or TV commentator speaking in terms that send you off in a flurry
of critical thoughts. Take that opportunity to become a “noticer,” decreasing your criticism while increasing the amount of courtesy and goodness in your world.
50th Verse Between birth and death, three in ten are followers of life; three in ten are followers of death. And men just passing from birth to death also number three in ten. Why is this so? Because they clutch to life and cling to this passing world. But there is one out of ten, they say, so sure of life that tigers and wild bulls keep clear. Weapons turn from him on the battlefield, rhinoceroses have no place to horn him, tigers find no place for claws, and soldiers have no place to thrust their blades. Why is this so? Because he dwells in that place where death cannot enter. Realize your essence and you will witness the end without ending.
Living as an Immortal In this passage, Lao-tzu asks you to change the way you look at your mortality. The Tao teaches that death is an insignificant detail that doesn’t need to be consciously struggled with or dreaded. As this verse of the Tao Te Ching informs you, there’s a “place where death cannot enter.” Talk about your life changing when you change your thoughts! This is the ultimate, since the fear of death tops virtually everyone’s list of anxieties. If you see yourself solely as a physical mortal, then you’re part of the 90 percent of the population that this passage refers to as “followers of life,” “followers of death,” or “just passing from birth to death.” Here you’re being encouraged to aspire to be part of the remaining 10 percent, for whom thoughts of mortality don’t invade the heart space or life in general. By altering the way you see death, you’ll be in that select group. You’ll experience life on the active side of infinity, knowing yourself first and foremost as a spiritual being having a temporary human experience, rather than the other way around. In this realm, you’ll be gracefully adept at moving along free of the fear of life-threatening events. You’ll have a knowing about yourself and your connection to the Tao that simply allows you to ride with life like a fearless downhill skier who’s at one with the snow-covered mountain. Without resorting to judgment, you’ll notice others who are perpetually victimized by scams, bureaucracies, indifference, natural disaster, criminals, or meddling relatives. With an intimate awareness of your infinite essence that’s centered in the Tao, you’ll most likely escape from victimization yourself, and you’ll lightly deal with situations that others tend to get stuck in. In other words, when you
know your own endless nature and live each day with this awareness directing you, there will simply be no space within you for mortality to call the shots. If harm ever does make an attempt to inflict damage or death on you, it won’t find a place to sink its hooks into. Change how you think about death by seeing your essential spiritual beingness, and you’ll be able to enjoy this world without the dread caused by believing you are of it. When you know your immortality through the flow of the Tao, you won’t even need to assign it a worldly concept or formal religion. And when the time comes for you to remove the worn-out coat you call your body, Lao-tzu says that “you will witness the end without ending.” Contemplate the teachings of the Tao Te Ching and realize that you can never really be killed or even harmed. With this view of life, you’ll be able to clear your inner battlefield of the army of beliefs that continually try to march on your essential self. Fear and dread are weapons that can’t hurt or threaten you. Even the natural elements symbolized by rhinos’ horns and tigers’ claws can’t inflict damage because they butt against and tear at a space that has no solidity for them to inflict pain. You dwell in a place that’s impenetrable to death—no longer are you clutching at the 10,000 things and treating your short journey from cradle to grave as your one and only ultimate life experience. Now you are the infinite Tao, living your real essence. Although Lao-tzu lived 25 centuries ago, he is still very much alive. I feel him urging you to heed the following bits of wisdom: Create affirmations. Remind yourself, No one dies, including myself. Affirm that you can never be harmed or destroyed, for you are not your body. If you stay connected to this reality, you’ll automatically deflect dangers that may have previously
been able to invade your physical space. For example, as the Indian saint Muktananda lay dying, his devotees are said to have surrounded him, pleading, “Please don’t leave.” Muktananda replied, “Don’t be silly—where could I go?” The great swami realized his true essence and knew that he was at an end without ending. Die while you’re alive! In your imagination, contemplate the death of your physical shell: Visualize it lying there lifeless, and observe how you, the witness, aren’t identified with this corpse. Now bring that same attention to your body as it gets up and goes about its daily tasks. Nothing could harm your human form when it was dead, and nothing can harm you now because you are not that body—you’re the invisible witnessing essence. Remain in this realization, knowing that you’ve experienced the death of your earthly container as your primary source of identification. In this new awareness, you’re impenetrable and free. Here’s how Leonardo da Vinci expressed the message of this verse of the Tao Te Ching: “While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.” Do this now, while you’re still alive. Do the Tao Now This Tao exercise is an inner-vision quest in which you picture yourself as immune to harm. Create your own imagined picture of danger, or draw on the 50th verse of the Tao Te Ching for threats to your life. Tigers jump at you and miss, swords are thrust at you but do no damage, bombs explode but you’re unscathed. . . . Keep this image of yourself as incapable of being harmed regardless of what goes on in your body. Then use this “witness to your immortality” vision to help you activate dormant protective forces that will accommodate you in fulfilling what you’ve imagined.